


To Unmask a Hero

by LadyoftheWoods



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxciet - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Deceit Sanders, fraternal Patton/Deceit, sympathetic everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Empath gets caught in a trap by Prince, and must fight his way out. In the battle, he is wounded, and Prince unmasks him.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 13
Kudos: 185





	To Unmask a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in drafts for a while, and decided to post it, finally.   
> In case it isn't clear, here's everyone's names.  
> Deception: Deceit/Dorian  
> Prince: Roman  
> Empath: Patton  
> Sage: Logan  
> Storm: Virgil

“Nowhere to run, Empath.” He shivered as the voice rang out through the warehouse. He was crouched behind a stack of barrels, trying to keep his breath even so as to not give himself away.

He'd figured out the location of Prince's lair. He should have waited for backup from Storm, he knew that, but he just couldn’t wait. He had to know what the villain was planning.

He should have known fighting Prince on his home turf was a bad idea, was a trap, but he hadn’t and now he was in a fight, of which he didn’t know what the outcome would be. 

He could feel the pulsing burn in his chest with each breath, a cracked or broken rib. His eye was swollen from the punch Prince had landed. The defensive cuts along his arms stung where he'd blocked the sword.

“Gotcha!” he yelped, jumping aside just as Prince's sword swung from above, scrambling away. But he was out in the open now, and Prince waved his hand. A ring of fire erupted around Empath, leaving him nowhere to run, and little space to maneuver. He gulped as Prince stepped through the flames, his masquerade mask hiding his face, but his eyes gleamed orange in the firelight.

Empath felt his pulse race, but steeled himself, summoning his sparkling blue staff and twirling it to meet Prince's sword.

Afraid. You’re afraid. Something behind you. He projected at Prince, trying to manipulate his mind, trying to give himself an opening. Instead, a sly smile slid onto Prince’s face, and he pushed forwards, delivering speedy blow after blow Empath could barely parry. 

He twisted out of the way of a blow, eyes widening as he saw the flash of fire that slammed into his chest. His suit was fireproof, but the force still sent him stumbling.

A flash of silver, a searing pain, a burning, scorching cold washed over him. He felt suddenly light headed, and stumbled back, a trip sending him sliding down against the wall.

Red. He was surprised to see red. Blood leaking through his fingers, which futilely clutched at his chest, as if that could stop the flow from the sharp, deep slice through his flesh, from right shoulder to left hip. 

“F-fiddlesticks" he gasped out. He really, really should have waited for Storm. Storm was going to kill him. That made him laugh wetly, because he doubted his fellow hero would get the chance.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps, his vision blurred, but he recognized the form of Prince. 

“Well, well. Not so tough without your little mind tricks, are you? Can thank Sage for that one.” Of course, Sage was the resident tech of the villains in town, rarely committing any crimes himself, preferring to work behind the scenes.

He was dizzy. Black spots were clouding his vision. He had to hang on, had to find a way out. He struggled weakly as he felt fingers against his face, the pain of moving exploding in fireworks behind his eyes.

“D-don't…pl…please" he gasped out. If Prince saw his face, learned his identity, everyone he cared for would be at risk. He tried to summon any dregs of power, but he was so heavy, his eyes were so heavy.

“Time to unmask the hero.” He was barely aware of the fabric being pulled off his head, of the sharp, shocked inhale of breath. He coughed, feeling pressure in his lungs, feeling wetness dribble down his chin. The last thing he heard before he was lost to darkness was a quiet, scared:

“Patton?”  
…  
Snippets. 

He was moving, swaying, someone was holding him. It hurt, the movement hurt, and he coughed, hearing a curse as he felt more liquid running down his chin.

“-can’t bring him here!” 

“-don’t get it... Patton... Please!” 

Hands against his chest, it burned, it shot agony coursing up his spine, he tried to get away, tried to move, tried to scream, but nothing came out. 

“Still... need you... not move.” Voice, familiar voice, how did he know that voice? Then it felt like ice being shoved in his veins, and he screamed, losing all awareness once again.  
….

Storm paced the floor, biting his thumb nail. He should have gotten a call by now, Empath should have called by now, he said he was just going to scope the place out, and they’d plan for a raid together then. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. He jumped as the phone rang. He fumbled with it for a moment, before flipping it open. 

“Empath?” There was a pause. He could hear breathing. 

“Um. No.” He bristled at that voice, squeezing the phone so tight his knuckles went white. He could feel wind starting to pick up in the apartment, his powers often were driven by his emotions. 

“What did you do with him? I swear, I will tear you apart if you lay a hand on him.” He growled, lightning flashing in his eyes. 

“It was an accident! I didn’t... I didn’t know...” Virgil’s breath caught, cold fear settling in his stomach. Prince was a good actor, but he sounded genuinely distraught. And as much as they played at heroes and villains, Prince had never once hurt a civilian, and their rivalry was filled with banter, both of them having more fun than they’d ever admit. 

“Princey, the hell did you do?” He demanded, heart pounding in fear, fear, fear. 

“I’m sending you our location. Just get here, fast. Sage is doing everything he can. He says... he says he’ll probably be fine.” 

“Princey-” He heard the phone disconnect and swore as a text came in a second later with coordinates. 

…  
“-Hell you didn’t!” Patton distantly heard the sound of someone being slammed against a wall. 

“I didn’t! I didn’t realize it was that bad until he coughed, I didn’t mean to hit him that hard, I didn’t fucking know it was Patton!” That voice made him shiver, sent fear spiking through him, he didn’t understand. 

“You weren’t supposed to know! That’s the whole point of SECRET identities! It’s rule number one, never remove a mask, what the FUCK were you thinking you insensitive, disastrous, BITCH!” He heard a thump, as if someone had fallen to their knees. 

“I recommend you both calm down. This level of noise is going to disturb him, and he needs all the rest he can get right now. It is also not good for either of you to take your worries out on each other.” That was a voice he didn’t know, but he liked it. It sounded level and sure and soothing. 

“I’m sorry.” The scary voice whispered, sounding almost broken. 

“Save it. Save it for him, if he ever wakes up again. God save you from Deception if he doesn’t.” He heard footsteps, walking away, and he wanted to call out, he wanted to ask him to stay, but he couldn’t seem to move, to open his eyes, to even breathe left him crying in pain. 

“Roman... he will be ok.” Roman? He knew a Roman, didn’t he? It was becoming fuzzy, things were becoming fuzzy again. He felt himself shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking. He heard yelling, someone calling his name, panic stricken, and instinctively reached out with his power to soothe them. 

Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. No need... no need to worry...

Then nothing.

Roman sunk into the chair next to the bed with a choked sob, face buried in his hands. Patton, god, Patton, even now, trying to help, even as he was wracked by a fit of shakes that were nearly strong enough to be called convulsions, sending out waves of calm. 

What had he done, what had he done, what had he done? 

A miscalculation of force and timing. That’s what he’d done. That’s all it had taken. He expected Empath to have time to raise his staff, to dodge backwards, to avoid the blow, he didn’t expect his own momentum to carry him so far so fast, he didn’t expect his own swing to be so forceful, he didn’t intend to cut that deeply or that far. 

He should have known it was Patton, should have recognized his voice, or his cadence of speech or his expressions, every use of fiddlesticks, of yelling out random words when Roman himself was about to swear in word association, even his abilities as an empath/telepathy was such an obviously Patton thing. 

How many times had he hurt Patton? Bruises, cuts, scrapes, fire, explosions, traps, skirmishes, never anything like this, never anything severe, but enough. Of course, usually Patton was the distance fighter, Storm was the up close and personal one, he was more physically matched to fight Roman, his abilities were much more offensive than Patton’s. It was him he’d really been waiting for in that warehouse, but Empath had showed up alone, instead. He’d meant to capture him, maybe, use him to draw out Storm, and they would banter and battle and of course the bonds would be loose enough Empath would slip free halfway through or something, and everything would be business as usual. 

“Roman... we have a problem.” He grunted to show he’d heard, unwilling to move, to face the world. “Storm apparently informed Deception of our whereabouts. He is currently raising a ruckus at the gates.” Roman let out a shaking breath, rubbing his face and pushing back his hair. 

“Let him in.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, and he could feel Sage’s eyes on him. 

“That is not a good course of action. With Empath in this state, and Storm as furious as he is-” 

“Let him in. He... he deserves to be here.” He knew what Sage was thinking. Deception was never merciful, more of a brooding vigilante than a hero or villain, operating in the gray of things, but he was connected to Empath in some way. Friends, family, mentor, something. He was fiercely protective and it wasn’t remotely out of the picture that he would attack Roman on sight. He heard Sage hesitate, but sigh. 

“Very well. I will open the gates. I will attempt to reason with him before he gets here.” When Roman made no move or sign he’d heard, Sage frowned, concern etched across his features, before he simply squeezed Roman’s shoulder and left the room. 

…  
Shouting, again. Shouting and a defeated, broken voice, one that sent shivers down his spine, one that he knew, one that was Roman’s. Roman... Roman was upset? Why... 

“-Killed him!” His mind jolted. He knew that voice, that voice brought a rush of warmth, a surge of comfort, nothing bad would happen if that voice was here. 

“-Think I don’t know that? I do, I do, and I’m terrified and I’m sorry and no amount of either of those will fix this and I don’t know how to fix this, and I didn’t mean for it to happen, I never meant to actually hurt someone, I never meant to hurt...” Roman’s voice. Sad. “I don’t care. Do whatever you want to me, hurt me, break me, kill me if that’s what it takes to forgive me or fix this, I don’t care. If... if we lose him... I can’t...” He recognized that. That gasping, speeding pattern of breaths. He could feel the fear, unease, the panic settling into Roman’s bones. 

Breathe. In 4, hold 7, out 8. Just breathe. You’ll be alright. It’s ok. 

He projected out, and he heard a strangled gasp, noise coming towards him, then a hiss and the sound of a shove. 

“Stay away from him.” Dorian. That’s who the warm voice was, now filled with equal parts anger and fear. He tried to reach out, but the black pit of exhaustion was threatening to drag him under once again, the ache across his chest flaring angrily. 

Then there was a hand squeezing his, one gently carding through his hair, softly wiping away tears he hadn’t realized were leaking from his eyes. 

“Patton. Patton, Patton, Patton.” Dorian said his name softly, reverently, almost like a prayer. He struggled to the edge of awareness, forcing in a deep breath that set his chest aflame and his lungs on fire, but the pain pushed him awake and he opened his eyes. 

“D-Dee... wh... what...” Dorian pressed a gentle finger to his lips, shushing him. 

“Don’t speak, pup, it’ll only hurt worse. You’re going to make it, you’re going to be alright.” Patton stared into his mismatched eyes, seeing the doubt flickering there. He looked over Dorian’s shoulder, spying Roman, frozen in place, face a war of relief and worry and fear. 

He met Roman’s eyes and recoiled, the shock of the movement sending spots flashing across his vision. He had a moment of awareness, a moment to connect the dots, a moment where he realized he knew those eyes, a moment of clarity. 

Roman was Prince. Roman had hurt him. Roman was afraid. Roman thought he was going to die. 

…  
Sage found Storm on the roof. The hero was standing at the railing, hands clenching it so hard his knuckles were white. The clear sky had turned dark and angry, fat, cold droplets starting to fall as the wind began to blow, lighting flashing in the not so far distance, the rumble of thunder echoing moments later. Storm’s posture was stiff, rigid, unmoving and still as stone. 

“Thank you.” Came the quiet, hoarse voice, making Sage jump. He hadn’t realized Storm had seen him, the hero hadn’t turned around, he must have heard his footsteps hesitating at the doorway to the roof. Cautiously, aware of how unpredictable Storm could be, acutely aware of every movement and sound, Sage came to stand beside him. Storm still didn’t look at him, staring out over the horizon, where dark clouds rolled in from the west. “You saved him. Didn’t have to, wouldn’t have expected you to, honestly. But you did. So, thanks. And I owe you one, I guess.” 

“no. Not for this one, you don’t. It is partially my fault.” Storm’s gaze whipped to him, eyes narrowed in confusion or suspicion, he couldn’t tell. “I took away his advantage. I found a frequency that when played counteracts his mind manipulation. If he’d been able to have that edge, he would have been able to distract Prince enough to dodge, possibly escape.” Storm sighed, and looked away, shaking his head. 

“He should have waited for me. He was supposed to report back, we were supposed to go together, I was supposed to be there to protect him.” 

“Storm-” 

“Enough, Logan!” He shouted, swatting away Sage’s hand that had been reaching out to console him, glaring at the villain, face wet not solely from the now pouring rain, the lightning flashing mere yards away from the roof, the thunder nearly deafening. Storm seemed to realize what he’d said, the fire in his eyes immediately dying, as he stared at Logan. Then he pressed a spot on his wrist, and the illusory suit that kept his identity hidden vanished. 

Logan was speechless. He knew that purple patched jacket, knew those smudged eyeliner marks, knew those deep brown eyes, that messy purple hair. Virgil, his roommate, Virgil. His roommate, who had slumped to the ground, legs dangling off the edge of the building through the bars, head resting against one. 

“C’mon, Lo, thought you knew everything. Isn’t that part of the whole evil mastermind schtick?” Virgil asked, his teasing lacking any of his usual sarcasm, instead falling flat. Logan’s mind was whirling. 

“How... how long..?” he managed to squeak out. 

“Since maybe a week after you moved in. You left a couple notes on the table, a couple odd looking parts here and there that I recognized from tools or schemes of Prince’s, or occasionally toys that Dee used that I knew he got from you.” 

“Why... you never said anything?” Virgil shrugged. 

“Nah. How awkward would that be? Hey, I know you’re a supervillain and I’m a superhero so this roommate thing isn’t really gonna work out? Besides, you’re a good roommate. You always pay the rent on time and do your fair share of chores, and you don’t actually make me anxious. So, why bring it up?” Logan was dumbstruck by Virgil’s reasoning. 

“That has maybe been the most incredulous thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth.” Virgil snorted, a small smile flickering across his face for a single second. 

“So. Storm is you, Virgil. We already learned that Empath is Patton. So that means Deception must be...” Logan trailed off, face palming with a groan. 

“Dorian? Yup. Give the man a trophy.” Of course. Of course, Deception was Dorian, was Patton’s older brother, no wonder they shared similar abilities, both forms of mind manipulation, no wonder Deception was so protective of Empath, of course they were siblings. And Virgil and Dorian had been dating for at least as long as Logan had known him, probably closer to an additional three years, four years total, if he had to guess. 

“Honestly, I'd thought you and Roman had figured it out by now. I mean, me and Dorian figured Roman out pretty quick, he uses the same puns and catchphrases in battle as he does in real life, and I know Patton has never been subtle. Patton knows me and Dee’s identities, obviously, but he didn’t know either of yours. Figured it was best not to tell him, he lets things slip too easy. Knowing him, he’d be mid fight and call out Roman for something he said.” 

“But-I mean- why- if you knew why not arrest us?! It makes no sense!” Logan exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Virgil rolled his eyes. 

“Because we were having fun, dummy. Because you guys never do any real, lasting harm, anyway, and we were happy for the excuse to use our powers instead of hiding them. Besides, I was friends with Roman since freshmen year of high school. I wasn’t just gonna rat him out to the cops. And we’ve already covered that I like you. Besides, I’d have to find a new roommate, and you know how I am about change.” 

“He still is your friend, Virgil.” Virgil shook his head. The rain that had been lightening up as they talked suddenly surged again, pounding against the roof. 

“He is not. Not anymore. Not after Patton.” A blinding flash of lightning struck the roof mere feet away. Logan tasted the ozone in the air, the concussive noise of thunder sending him stumbling. When his vision cleared, Virgil was gone, the door swinging closed. 

“Virgil? What are you-” He cut Roman’s question off by pressing the button on his wrist, suit flickering to life for a moment before vanishing again. He ignored Roman’s gasp and further questions, pushing past him into Patton’s sick bay room. Evidently, he’d gotten kicked out by Dorian, not that he was surprised. 

Dorian was holding tight to Patton’s hand, gently stroking his forehead, silent tears slipping down his face. He’d cast aside his black hood/mask, and his hair stuck up every which way because of it. Patton was pale, so pale, his breathing pained and shallow, sweat making his hair sticky. Virgil felt guilt roiling in his gut. 

He padded his way over, pulling a chair up next to Dorian’s, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and stroking it with his thumb. He felt Dorian let out a shaking breath, eyes never leaving his brother’s face. 

“I always thought if it was going to be either of us, it was going to be me. I’m the one going after actual threats. Mob bosses, shady industrialists, morally bankrupt politicians, people with the means and power to actually target and kill me. I never... I never thought it would be him.” Virgil hated the break in Dorian’s voice, hated the sorrow on his face, hated the empty, afraid look in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I should have gone with him, I-” 

“Don’t do that, love.” Dorian turned to him, reaching up and tucking Virgil’s hair behind his ear, stroking his cheek. Virgil leaned into the touch, trying to contain his own tears. “It is not your fault. You’ve done missions like this hundreds of times. You had no way to expect this. Don’t blame yourself.” Virgil felt Dorian draw his hand away from his cheek, instead twining his fingers through Virgil’s. 

“Logan knows. He didn’t, already, by the way.” 

“Guess I owe you that twenty, then.” Dorian replied wryly, having placed a bet on whether or not Logan had figured out their identities. Virgil let out a small laugh. 

“yeah. And I showed Roman. Figured there’s no point now.” Dorian hummed in agreement, before lapsing into silence, still stroking Patton’s hair with his free hand. After a while, he started absently humming, an old lullaby he half remembered from their childhood. He paused as he felt a weight settle on him, smiling softly as he saw Virgil had fallen asleep resting his head on Dorian’s shoulder. He didn’t know how long it’d been, he’d lost all sense of time. A few hours, if he had to guess. 

He heard the door opened and stiffened, turning his head, ready to bare his fangs and spit venom if that villain even stepped a foot inside the room. Logan froze in his tracks at that ice cold gaze, nervous. But Dorian’s fury immediately dropped. 

“Oh, it’s you. “ He said, turning his attention back to Patton. 

“Yes. Is it alright if I..?” He trailed off, already being waved over by Dorian. He quickly checked Patton’s vitals, his pulse, his heartbeat, his lungs. He checked the bandages wrapping the entirety of his torso as well, pleased to see they weren’t soaked through yet, were barely tinged pink, even. That meant the bleeding had stopped, which was the most important thing. He sighed, rocking back on his heels. 

“Well. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, he’d lost a lot of blood, but he seems to be doing well, under the circumstances. It’s unadvisable for him to move much if at all in the next five days or so, or risk opening the wound back up, and after that another week of limited movement, excluding any lifting or strenuous activity, and it will take longer for the soreness and tenderness to go away, along with the pain from the cracked rib, of course, but in time he should make a full recovery.” Dorian sunk back in his chair, letting out a long, low breath as he stared up at the ceiling, the wave of relief washing through him making him dizzy. 

“thank you.” He whispered. 

“Would the two of you stop doing that? I don’t need to be thanked, I wasn’t very well going to let someone bleed out on my front door, no matter who they were. I don’t deserve any thanks, I simply did what was required of me to be of assistance.” Dorian cracked a wry smile, eyes shifting to Logan. 

“How did you ever become a villain, with that kind of mindset? You sound just like Patton, you know. And not everyone would have done what you did. I can’t think of a single one of my enemies whom would show me mercy much less save me if I was brought to their door bleeding out.” 

“Yes, well, your enemies are slightly more... intense than what your brother usually handles. I was just being a decent human, which is the least I could do.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “I understand why you are angry. You have every right to be angry. But Roman... this truly was an accident. Roman never wanted to actually hurt him, and he is grieving just as much as you are. I’m not telling you to do anything, or implying any course of action or apology,” Logan held up his hand, forestalling the arguments he could sense growing on Dorian’s lips, “I am simply stating facts that you should take into consideration when deciding how to handle your next interaction with him. Now, I am going to sleep. There is a call button right there on the wall, if anything happens or anything seems wrong, press it and I will be here within moments to assist. Otherwise, I will check in tomorrow morning. The kitchen is out the door and down the hall to the left, I’d advise you to eat something soon, the stress has caused your body to burn though more calories than normal. Also, try and get some sleep, a few hours, at least.” With that, Logan inclined his head, then exited out the door without another word. 

Dorian leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Objectively, he knew Logan was right. He knew Roman hadn’t ever meant to hurt Patton like this, he knew Roman was guilt ridden and grieving and losing it out there, but he was just too tired, too done, to care. It didn’t matter, what Roman felt or thought or meant, he had acted, and there had been consequences. 

…  
“Dee?” He startled at that quiet voice. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep at all, but that voice was enough to send his heart into overdrive and his eyes flying open as he locked on those baby blues. 

“Patton.” He whispered, instantly sitting on the bed beside him, hand held in his, stroking his hair as his eyes endlessly roved over his brother’s face. Still too pale, still too drawn, but aware and alive and awake. “How are you feeling, pup?” 

“hurts.” He croaked out. Dorian turned, but Virgil was already there with a cup of water. Carefully, aware of every harsh breath of pain, Dorian supported his brother as he helped him into a semi sitting position, Virgil helping him drink. Even that simple movement seemed to exhaust Patton. 

“I know, pup. But you’re going to be ok.” 

“Roman-“ 

“Isn’t going to hurt you again, or I swear to god I will smite him.” Virgil growled, making a smile flicker across Patton’s face.

“no. I wanna… I wanna see him.” Dorian stiffened, and Virgil’s jaw clenched, as he looked away. 

Roman. He called out. 

Instantly, he heard loud, pounding footsteps, the door flying open, Roman stopping in the doorway. His hair stuck up in every direction, eyes red and puffy, dark bags below them. He looked almost as terrible as Patton felt. Instantly, Virgil was on his feet, lightning crackling in his palms, and Dorian was hissing, fangs bared. 

“Stop that. I called him.” Patton said, gently whacking Dorian’s arm. “And I am asking you two to leave.” 

“Patton-“ 

“No. Don’t Patton me. I will call you if I need help.” Patton said sternly. Dorian hesitated, but he knew Patton wasn’t going to budge, and he didn’t want to cause him any extra stress. 

“Alright.” He said lowly, carefully slipping out of his supportive hold, propping Patton up against the pillows, taking Virgil’s hand as he stood. He glared at Roman as they brushed past him, using his power to show Roman exactly what he would do to him if he so much as blinked at Patton the wrong way. Roman shuddered as the door closed softly behind him, almost wishing Dorian would just do it, because he deserved it. 

“roman.” He shook his head at Patton’s soft, gentle voice, tears building up behind his eyes, because he didn’t deserve that softness, he didn’t deserve for Patton to be so worried about him when he was the cause of this all to begin with. 

It’s ok. I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean it. I know it was an accident. I know you wouldn’t have hurt me that badly on purpose.

He suppressed a sob, shaking. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. He’d nearly killed Patton. The best thing in his life, one of his best friends since freshman year, one of his most trusted companions, and he’d nearly killed him. 

“I love you.” He whispered, unable to hold it in anymore, unable to stand not saying it, unable to keep it to himself when he had nearly lost the most precious, gorgeous, beautiful thing in his life. “I’ve loved you since I first met you, since Virgil introduced me to you in the library and you made that stupid pun about Virgil spending time there being a novel idea. I love your laugh and your bubbly smile and your expressive eyes and the way you always show exactly what you’re feeling and you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I nearly killed you.” He could feel Patton’s eyes on him, but he refused to look up, refused to meet those eyes. 

Roman-

“I’ll be going, now. I’m glad, you’re going to be ok. I’m sorry. You won’t… you won’t see me again, I won’t come near you again, I’m done, done with all of it, done with everything.” 

Stop. Come. Here. Patton’s words were tinged with his power, now, compelling Roman to do as he was told, though he barely fought against the grip of those words. Patton could do whatever he wanted to him, it was only fair. It was only what he deserved. 

“Roman. Look at me. Please?” Not an order, now that he was standing by Patton’s bedside, but he forced his chin up, forced himself to meet Patton’s eyes, forced himself to look at him, see each pained breath, his far too pale face, his soft blue eyes, full of nothing but sympathy and warmth, and he let out a sob, because how dare Patton look at him like that, when he had hurt him so badly? 

“come here, baby.” Patton opened his arms, and Roman couldn’t help the sob that tore its way out of his throat as he carefully collapsed into Patton’s open arms, curling tight and gently against his side, avoiding putting any pressure on his chest, head buried against his shoulder, hands grasping at his clothing, desperately breathing in the scent of Patton. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I should have known it was you, I should have known and I’m sorry and I hurt you, how many times, how many times, have I hurt you, Patton?” 

Patton didn’t answer, instead gently tilting Roman’s chin up, resting his head so Patton’s baby blues were all he could see, his breath catching at how close Patton’s lips were to his, how close he was to Patton. 

You absolutely lovely idiot. 

Then Patton’s lips were on his, soft and sweet as cotton candy, as summer rain, as spring flowers, warm and achingly, impossibly tender. 

“I love you.” Patton whispered, resting nose to nose, inhaling each other’s breath, and carefully, slowly, Roman maneuvered himself so he was behind Patton, Patton on his lap, his body intertwined with Patton’s, Patton’s head against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to his forehead, his cheek, his lips, tasting the salt from his own tears on his lips, before he finally tucked his head against Patton’s shoulder, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, gently holding Patton close around his middle. 

“I don’t deserve you. I have never deserved you. I only deserve you less and less, dear heart.” He murmured, taking another long, shuddering breath as Patton turned his head, kissing Roman’s cheek, reaching up and wiping away his tears, hand resting against his cheek. Roman’s own hand covered his, and he turned his head, kissing his palm softly, before intertwining their fingers, kissing each of his knuckles before he lowered their hands. 

“You’ve always been enough, Roman. I was afraid, I didn’t want to say anything, I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and lose you completely, and then Virgil would be upset and I didn’t want the trouble.” Roman shook his head, nuzzling against Patton’s neck, closing his eyes. 

“you could never ruin anything, Pat. You’re the kindest, sweetest, smartest person I have ever met. I don’t understand how one person can be as purely good as you, dear heart. I don’t know what you could possibly see in me, after this.” 

“I see you, Roman. I see your care and passion and hope and love. I see your own insecurities and self loathing and doubts, and I counter them with my faith and love. I don’t know what crimes you’ve committed, or all of them, at least, but I still forgive them all, anyway. I love all of you, because of who you are. I love you because I know you care, I know you go out of your way not to cause harm, I know you always let me and Virgil get away because you enjoy the chase and the game more than anything else. And I will always let you catch me. I will always catch you, my brilliant Roman Candle.” Patton murmured, running a finger over Roman’s knuckles, feeling him relaxing against the bed, breathing slowing as he started to drift. “When was the last time you slept, silly?” Roman shrugged, murmuring noncommittally. 

“nap time, then. For the both of us. And don’t you dare be gone when I wake up, Roman, or I just might let Virgil smite you, after all.” He smiled at Roman’s low chuckle, feeling him press a final, soft kiss to the side of his neck. 

“Whatever you say, dear heart. Whatever you wish, I will make yours. Always.” Patton snuggled back into Roman, melting against him as his eyes fluttered shut, sleeping deeper and more soundly than he ever had before. 

He would make Virgil and Dorian understand in the morning. For now, he was warm, and safe, and truly, deeply, exhaustedly, happy.


End file.
